The Combat Hall was a wide, sprawling structure that covered the space of dozens of city blocks. Twenty-foot-tall walls lined with red tiles formed its fortifications, concealing its interior from outside view. The tiles were old but well maintained, their crimson glaze catching the early sunlight and giving the structure a solemn, martial presence. The only clear entrance was a pair of black metal doors, opened wide for ease of access and departure. Their surfaces were etched with countless shallow scars, marks left behind by generations of cultivators entering and leaving the hall.

  Beside the doors sat a disciple in his late twenties. A sheathed sword rested against his body, its hilt worn smooth from years of use, and a small pot of tea sat on the ground next to him, steam curling lazily into the air.

  Ishin and Rhee had departed for the Combat Hall at dawn and arrived two hours later, the morning sun now climbing steadily above the sect’s sprawling grounds. Both stopped several paces from the entrance, staring at the front doors of the Combat Hall and silently wondering what awaited them inside.

  The best martials of the Outer Sect are in there. Ishin gripped his new dark metal spear in excitement. I wonder how I compare. His inner beast stirred with anticipation at the thought, coiling restlessly within him, eager to clash against worthy opponents once more.

  Ishin glanced at Rhee, noting the calm determination in her posture. Hopefully this helps her forget about her rejection from the Alchemic Hall. “Shall we go inside?”

  Rhee smiled widely back at him, her earlier disappointment nowhere to be seen. “Let’s.”

  The two approached the front doors, drawing the attention of the seated disciple. He opened one eye and regarded them with a casual glance. “New faces,” he remarked. “Did you recently escape the island?”

  Ishin and Rhee paused before him, and Ishin assessed the man more carefully. He’s not bothering to stand up to greet us, Ishin thought irritably.

  With a quick examination using his third eye, Ishin discerned that the man’s two chakras were at the third and second layers of the Adept Realm. Additionally, he noticed that the chakras were metal- and thunder-aspected, respectively. That’s an interesting combination.

  “We arrived two weeks ago, Senior,” Rhee replied respectfully, though Ishin noticed she made no move to bow.

  “Fresh, then,” the seated disciple replied, leaning back against the Combat Hall’s wall. His eyes drifted lazily over the two. “Though you look like you had quite the experience there.”

  “What are you referring to?” Ishin asked, his patience beginning to strain.

  “Your scars,” the disciple clarified, as if it were obvious. “Did a Vampire Monkey give you those?”

  Right… my scars. Ishin had practically forgotten about them, despite how often they were brought up by others.

  “It was something else,” Ishin replied evenly. “Before Desolate Island.”

  “Battle-proven, then.” The disciple shifted his position slightly. “You’ll fit right in.”

  His arm… Ishin realized suddenly. It’s gone! He hadn’t noticed it at first, but the disciple was missing his entire left arm, the sleeve of his robe neatly folded and pinned in place.

  “Can we go inside?” Rhee asked tersely.

  “Go right ahead. Anyone who walks a martial path is welcome.” The disciple waved his remaining hand dismissively. “Fair warning, though—you’ll have to endure the Gauntlet if you wish to join.”

  “The Gauntlet?” Rhee asked.

  “They’ll explain inside.” He lifted his tea and took a slow sip. “My advice is to stay true to your martial spirit.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Senior,” Ishin said reluctantly. This better not be like the Culling on Desolate Island.

  They slipped through the dark metal doors and entered the Combat Hall. The interior was open to the sky, natural morning light flooding the vast space and illuminating the activity within. Along the inner walls stood bastions placed at regular intervals, their elevated platforms occupied by observing disciples and instructors. A small castle rose at the far end of the hall, its stonework darker and more imposing than the rest of the structure.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The majority of the Combat Hall, however, was dominated by wide, circular dueling platforms. One massive platform occupied the center, its stone surface deeply scored and repaired countless times over the years. Twelve smaller platforms formed an outer ring around it, evenly spaced and connected by clean stone paths that allowed cultivators to move swiftly between matches.

  What drew Ishin’s attention most was that every platform was currently in use. Individual sparring matches unfolded across the outer platforms, each displaying a wide variety of techniques and fighting styles. On the nearest platform, a monstrous man with flame-covered fists battled a woman wielding a naginata, the clash of steel and fire sending waves of heat across the stone. Similar battles echoed across the hall, punctuated by bursts of qi, flashes of elemental energy, and the shouts of combatants.

  “Reminds me of our old school,” Rhee murmured.

  “Me too.”

  “Look at the center platform,” Rhee said, gesturing ahead as they continued deeper into the hall.

  Ishin followed her gaze. A crowd of disciples had formed a horseshoe around a slender, tall woman holding a zither. From this distance, Ishin couldn’t hear her words, but the gathered disciples were clearly entranced by her presence alone.

  She doesn’t seem to have any weapons. Just that zither. Is she a musician?

  Ishin and Rhee reached the edge of the central platform just as the slender woman raised her zither and strummed a single chord. An explosion of thunder erupted fifty feet behind her, the sound cracking like the sky itself splitting apart. Dust and stone fragments rained down as murmurs of awe rippled through the crowd.

  That technique… Ishin thought in amazement. It has the destructive force to shatter stone. And if she intentionally aimed the point of impact, the range would be considerable. Considering her control too… she’s strong.

  He instinctively opened his third eye and saw what he suspected.

  Merit Realm.

  She’s so young too. Younger than even my mother was.

  “That’s Disciple Jiang Yu’s renowned Heavenly Thunder Strum technique,” one disciple whispered to his companion.

  “Who would’ve thought an instrument could be so deadly?”

  “How would you even dodge an attack like that?”

  Jiang Yu raised a delicate hand, silencing the murmurs instantly. “This demonstrates the importance of never underestimating an adversary based on their appearance. Many of my peers in the Inner Sect fall victim to such natural biases.”

  She lifted the zither for all to see. Ishin and Rhee had reached the platform’s edge by this point and listened intently.

  “How many of you would dismiss another cultivator as a threat simply because they wield something as innocuous as an instrument?”

  Several Outer Sect disciples shuffled and murmured among themselves, clearly guilty.

  “It is good that you recognize this flaw now,” Jiang Yu continued gently. “My intent is not to shame, but to guide my juniors and prevent you from repeating the mistakes of others. Whether you follow the Dao of Spear, Fist, Sword, or another path, remember that any dao can be wielded offensively by a true master.”

  Her gaze shifted and locked directly onto Ishin and Rhee. “Now then, it appears we have new arrivals.”

  All eyes turned toward them, and Ishin felt the unmistakable pressure of dozens of third eyes focusing on him.

  It’s a little imposing, Ishin thought. Then he smiled. Excellent.

  If Jiang Yu was any indication of the strength housed within the Combat Hall, then Ishin was thrilled. A warrior could only grow by testing himself against stronger opponents. From Yellow Dome City to the Exhibition Tournament, from Vampire Monkeys to Isho Nel on Desolate Island, every trial had forced him to evolve. Now it’s time to see how far this sect can take me.

  Ishin gave a proper bow. “Honored Senior, we seek admittance to the Combat Hall.”

  “Yes, Senior,” Rhee added, bowing as well. “Your demonstration was enlightening. We would be honored to further our martial paths here.”

  “Well spoken,” Jiang Yu replied, her lips curving upward. She turned to one of the onlookers. “Go inform Elder Long Tusk of their arrival.”

  “Yes, Senior!” The disciple hurried toward the distant castle.

  Turning back to them, Jiang Yu asked, “Are you new to the Outer Sect?”

  “We arrived two weeks ago, Senior,” Ishin answered. If I have to explain this one more time…

  “I see. What daos do you follow?”

  “The Spear Dao,” Ishin answered immediately.

  Rhee hesitated. “The Shadow Dao… and perhaps the Fist Dao.”

  Jiang Yu studied her. “You’re unsure?”

  “Yes, Senior,” Rhee admitted. “I follow a martial path but have relied on both fists and shadow techniques. I hope to receive guidance in refining my focus.”

  Ishin was surprised by her candor. I didn’t know she carried such uncertainty.

  “A wise admission,” Jiang Yu said. “I myself was unsure of my path when I arrived.” She smiled warmly. “There is no better place to discover your true dao than here. The battles and trials you overcome will forge it through pressure and adversity. Simply coming here proves you are on the right path.”

  “Thank you, Senior,” Rhee said softly, bowing again.

  A heavy thud echoed from the far side of the central platform.

  That’s…

  Approaching behind the dispatched disciple was a humanoid elephant clad in red and black robes. The Spirit Beast stood twelve feet tall and must have weighed over six hundred pounds. Each step sent a resonant tremor through the stone beneath its feet.

  “A spirit beast,” Rhee gasped.

  She was right—but Ishin’s mind struggled to grasp why a spirit beast wore sect robes.

  “Greetings, Elder,” Jiang Yu said, bowing deeply as the spirit beast reached the platform. “Two new disciples seek to join the Combat Hall.”